You know, Gentle Readers, we humans really are a strange, weird and screwed-up crew. Full of irrational mores, aberrant behaviour; capable of both sublime dreams and shocking nightmares.
All of this would lead some to conclude that such a species shouldn’t by any right exist; much less flourish. But we do. And we endure. So lets find the positives in such dire times, and embrace the humour of being so uniquely eccentric.
And don’t hate yourself for being part of the puzzle. You’re not weird. You’re the pinnacle of evolution, a marvel of nature, part of a species so mind-bogglingly adaptable that we’d already be living on the moon if the place hadn’t turned out to be so boring. It’s the world that got weird. So forget it.
You think we’re strange? Observe human history. Most medieval doctors had no idea what was going on or what to do about it, so they would pull cures out of their asses — literally. In medieval times, cures for diseases often called for the liberal application of shit. One headache cure, for example, called for a recipe of pigeon dung, incense, wheat flour, and egg white. Which are, incidentally, the exact same ingredients you’ll find in a Cadbury Creme Egg. How delectable.
“Shitter, Beware” was inscribed on public toilets, private toilets, city streets, and even tombs all over ancient Rome. Whether this was a response to a genuine epidemic of vigilante turdvengeance or a sort of irreverent sanitation warning about hovering your wide-open ringpiece over human remains is still being argued by historians. Not acclaimed historians as yet to be involutarily committed, but still…
Over to modern times. On having the dubious pleasure of staying at a 5-star hotel, I decided to avail myself of the menu. I even had my eye on a beautiful Steak Tartare dish. No frigging way. Lurking next to the entry were the letters ‘MP’ instead of a price. It stands for ‘market price,’ but functions as a warning: ‘If you have to ask how much it is, you can’t afford it.’ I asked. It was £150 – roughly the same amount it cost to clean my shit out of their chairs when I heard that number.
And our defining invention, Religion? Get real. A modern-day priest; according to one of his parishiners, even encouraged her to ‘have sexual relations with a horse’ and, on multiple occasions, ‘beat her in the rectory,’ which believe me, was not a euphemism. Said purveyor of Divine Joy was also never without his ‘briefcase full of vibrators, sex toys, masks, and bondage equipment.’ Most notably, he took it along when counselling widows or women experiencing marital strife, in hopes of ‘counselling’ them back onto the path of holiness (the counselling was, of course, done with his dick).
To continue on the theme of messed-up fuckwits, there’s good ‘ol Donny Trump: A typical example of: “People see me and wonder what helplessly uninformed assholes created a need for me.”A man so blessed with evil incompetence that some Donny doubles have so much evil inside them that their proctologist’s un-gloved fingers now add an anus to any flesh they touch. When Trump got an MRI, the computer just showed an image of his daughter squatting over Jesus Christ and peeing into the Big Guy’s eye sockets. He dodged military service with a note from his gynaecologist, and the only book on war he’s read is a Hitler cat recipe book.
Finally, we couldn’t even master the occult. In the early 1800’s, 200 years removed from Salem and in what should have been a sobering lesson on the dangers of moral panics, New England convinced itself for reasons obscure, that it was now beset with vampires. To protect themselves, these Van Helsing-stylie residents began exhuming corpses, decapitating the bodies and burning their organs. That’s a whole lot of work, though, so sometimes they would merely flip the exhumed corpse over, which is apparently sufficient defence against the undead. Maybe vampires have a terrible sense of direction and are easily confused.
So, good people, bitch not. With this sort of nutball crap going on, what’s not to like? Enjoy.